Just Forget Me
by Megandhi
Summary: What's it like to be lost but not looking for a way out? What's it like to hold your friend's future in your hands? What's it like to barely hold your life together when all along it was just a lie? We can't choose who we are, but we can choose to fight.
1. Chapter 1: Strangers

Remember children, encouraging the writer ensures story survival!

Don't want to read an author's note? Scroll down, please.

Inspiration is a wonderful and fleeting concept, unfortunately. I do find that empathy is a great tool in enjoying a tale, and so spawns the background for the following yarn. While the protagonist is original, there is purpose. No one likes to hear about other people's lives... so why not pretend that ours can be great too? Why not pretend that our lives have an escape from the mundane monotony of this one? That's the point, and there you go.

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><p><strong>Chapter One<strong>

**_Strangers_**

Perpetual sunset covered the sky, casting a quiet ambiance throughout the entire town. It seemed silence itself could even drift past the intangible as it settled thick on the empty streets. The cramped buildings were quiet monoliths to loneliness. Everything was either waiting for its chance to emerge, or just gone. It wasn't an uncommon observation. Since the rise in heartless nearly all the denizens of this feeble place were sent huddling in their homes for safety. Bricks diluted into warm colors aided in the serenity, or only in its falseness. It was the perfect small town on the surface, unassuming in every way.

And they both picked it for exactly this reason.

His boots clapped the pavement as he walked the empty tram path, sounding small echoes to the town's quiet square. The black coat hung a weight heavy on his shoulders. The fabric clung to his skin. It was Responsibility. It was Redemption.

Calm orange rays speared past the surrounding structures, casting the air on fire. The curtain of light brought with it a certain warmth that clung to the atmosphere. It was different than usual. It was peaceful, real and safe.

He paused, bringing a sudden cease to the only sound the desolate town seemed to know.

She was standing there in the shadow of the bridge over the way oh-so nonchalantly. Her eyes lifted as she noticed his presence, but her posture remained relaxed, tilted slightly so that she rest on the adjacent wall. Curls cascaded to her shoulders, but a single piece of hair fell, lying just across her face. She didn't move; only stared him down as he stared back, keeping her hands clasped together in front of her. Curiosity pursed her lips.

It must have been the way she looked at him… A faint memory, just below the surface.

"Hey," she said.

He jumped, broken from his concentration. He had half-convinced himself to turn back the way he'd came, but something kept him immobile. What was wrong with him? How did he even let himself get spotted?

Her hands separated as she pushed herself off the wall, five fingers curled around a small wooden ball. Her head tilted to the side, confusion furrowing her brow.

"What?" she said. "You looking at this?" She held up the object in question. "It's a yo-yo." Her fingers uncurled, dropping the ball to the ground. It immediately rebounded back, drawn by a white string back snug into her palm.

_What a weird guy_, she thought to herself. _You think he'd never seen a yo-yo_. Now that she really paid attention, she noticed that his appearance did give off some weird vibes. All black attire with an ankle-length coat did well to give him that "creeper" look. His hair was even platinum, pin-straight but all scruffy looking. It kind of concealed his face but her eyes still caught the incongruous blindfold.

Awkwardness floated in the silence, much too noticeable.

"You can try," she said, waving her hand towards him. "Come here."

They were doe eyes. Brows slightly downturned, it was the picture of innocent pleading. Even the frown had its effect, dispelling his apprehension. The rest just didn't seem to bother him anymore. Caution just disintegrated under that stare.

He finally walked to her, closing the unnecessarily huge gap between them as they first talked. Still, he didn't say _anything_, just bit his lip in a funny way as his hands hovered in the air uncertainly.

_Right now would be a great time for some heartless to show up_, he thought.

She couldn't help it, expelling a laugh at his awkwardness. One would think such an eccentrically dressed fellow would have his social priorities in order. Plus, she had to do something about the overbearing silence.

"Sorry, sorry," she apologized. "It's just… funny." Her hands waved dismissively, a nervous gesture that she just couldn't break. "Here you go, Stevie Wonder."

He didn't get the joke, of course, but she handed him the toy nonetheless.

"H-How do I use it?" he asked, wavering a bit.

_Finally a sound escaped his lips_, she thought. His voice suited him though, she observed. It was deep, but kind of sad. He probably didn't have many friends. It might have arose from his fashion sense, she figured. But, she kept her mouth shut on this aspect.

"Here," she said, grabbing his hand. She pulled out his index finger, slipping the looped strand of string around it.

"Uh," he said, more like a grunt of surprise. Her touch wasn't expected, nor the warmth that radiated from her fingers. The "yo-yo" too was a strange item. The wood was old, simple, and unfinished. The string wrapped around his finger was colored with age as well. She must have had it a while.

"You hold it like this-" she instructed, turning the yo-yo so that the string ran away from him. "Then let it roll and pull it up with a flick of the wrist." She let him go and held up one finger. "Just one flick. Now try it."

She backed up a step, grabbing her hands behind her back. Her eyes watched him expectantly.

He stared at his hand for a second, the wooden ball resting in his palm. This whole episode was… strange. When was the last time he even did anything like this? The coat felt heavier than ever.

The ball tilted, plummeting towards the ground, but at the last second pulled up, returning to his hand.

"You're a natural!" she exclaimed, clapping her hands together. "I would have thought the spiffy eyewear would mess up your depth perception or something." She waved her finger over her eyes.

His own hand trailed up to his blindfold, gently touching it. Yeah, he had almost forgotten about that too.

"Yeah," he said, handing the yo-yo back to her.

"Thanks," she said, grabbing it with hands. Carefully putting the toy in her pocket, she paused, pouting. "I think I forgot to ask your name, stranger."

Air hissed through his teeth involuntarily. He was really pushing the boundaries now. Still, he relinquished it. "Riku," he said.

"Melanie," she said back, her arm outstretched.

After a moment, he took it. One shake.

"Nice to meet you, Riku." Melanie said. She smiled, rolling her eyes skyward. "So… What are you doing, Riku?"

He didn't answer, hesitant of what to say. Interaction with the townspeople was not encouraged; he probably even screwed himself over giving out his name. No one was supposed to know he was here.

"Oh," she said, breaking his thought process again. "Sounds important. Guess I'll get out of your way then. See you around?" She gave a small smile accompanied by a wave, sidling around him in the direction from which Riku had just came.

He watched her go, catching a quick "Bye" as she disappeared into a sidestreet.

He shook his head, not what to make of the whole encounter. Still, he was here for a reason, and one slip-up didn't alter his mission.

He had a friend to save.

~

What, did he just come back from a flashers' piñata party or something? Lost a bet? Joined a cult? She almost felt guilty for mocking the guy so much, but _really_. It was _too _easy.

She couldn't remove the smile from her face as she strolled the alley. Wind whistled through the rooftops, just barely reaching the ground. The rushing air tousled her hair, swinging it around her face in a playful manner. Today just seemed like a good day.

Then it all stopped.

Heaviness corroded the air, like a dry humidity that just sits on the skin. Her hair fell slack against her face as she stopped walking, staring straight ahead.

She felt it.

She heard it.

She saw it.

A smirk crept upon her lips, but this one was different. She was different.

"You guys are late."


	2. Chapter 2: Changing Tides

Second chapter up! Okay guys, I made it over the hurdle. Now there's a 70% chance this story will make it to sufficient length.

But I need some lovin'.

**Chapter 2**

**_Changing Tides_**

"How much longer, Naminé?"

Fiery impatience marred the man's usual cold demeanor as he entered. Hands wringing tightly behind his back, he approached the girl standing in the center of the room. One eye peered from a mesh of red bandages, darting around quickly. Anxiously, his gaze drifted to the most noticeable object in the area.

Encapsulated in a bulb, it was where _he_ slept. The last hope they had, virtually broken.

White. It was everywhere, and every aspect of the room. Even the slight fog descending upon them was devoid of color. Even the dormant flower, waiting before them. It was cold, emotionless… and yet it was home.

A plastic flower herself, she stood there stoic and unmoving. Neither did her eyes even dare stray from the object. Ice blue and unblinking, they bored into it. They held the hope that this plan would work. It had to.

"It will take time, DIZ. You know that," she answered, her voice low and cool, as if she'd already had to reassure this fact many times. That fact wasn't too far off. DIZ had a slim margin of patience with the temper to match. Especially when it came to this.

"They are already in the town, Naminé. Riku is attempting to divert their attention, but I shouldn't have to remind _you_ what the consequences would be if we were discovered," he retorted. His aged voice meant no malice, only warning, but the effect was done regardless. Leaving the implications to settle, he swiftly turned to go.

Naminé gave a slight nod. She remembered those days in Castle Oblivion, and too well her imprisonment there, how she was trapped and forced to do their bidding. It wasn't her will to do the things she did, but that didn't take any of the guilt away. What mattered was that she was on the right path now. She was fixing her mistake.

If she even had the ability to, now. Everything was so ruined. Broken hopes, dreams, memories, everything was just in ruins. The damage had already been done, and time as well was against them. Everything was against them.

"DIZ," Naminé said.

And yet she could do it. It would be difficult, if not impossible. She had the will, she had the power… and yet…

Everything was against them.

The man looked back, fighting to hide his worry. One amber eye glared at her. Bandages on his face felt much too present. Anything but another complication. Please.

A dormant bulb, waiting to mature into a beautiful flower. Waiting. Waiting forever.

She could do it. But this… she hadn't told him yet. She didn't know what to do… How could she fight this?

Biting her lip, she turned to face him. Ice blue eyes looking for sympathy. Looking for help. "We… may have a problem."

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><p><em>Errr… This may be a problem.<em>

Bright letters loomed mockingly over, just daring her to try. Do it. Go ahead. They really were simple. It shouldn't have been this hard.

Melanie chewed on her lip, which by this point was raw with abuse. It was nothing less than the anxiety caused by doing something one would rather die than do. This is rather be rotting in a ditch bad.

Still, desperation was a powerful opponent to this pride. Melanie was all-too aware of something missing as her thumbs absently flipped inside her empty pockets. A growl reverberating from her stomach punctuated this need. She turned, looked around.

Station Heights was livelier than usual. Melanie saw some kids running down the slope, kicking ball. A woman was hanging some laundry on the line. Birds chirped, and the oppressive air that hung over the town seemed to virtually disappear. The shops were open now, even if this later observation did her little good.

She didn't stop the smile rising on her face. It was good. Yeah.

The corners of her lips twitched as she remembered her conundrum. Distraction aside, she had other problems to trifle with, namely her lack of funds. This, of course, brought her to the job postings board.

_Jooobbbsss…._ Just the thought was sickening. Her eyes glanced over the titles of numerous unwanted, mundane simplicities.

"Manual labor? …"

She imagined pushing a cart full of supplies up the mountain. Glancing at herself, and her tiny muscles, she decided this was about the worst thing she could sign up for. She was a little girl. They would laugh at her.

An exasperated sigh well defined the past couple hours.

"How about…. Fliers…" Posting paper on buildings? The wage was minimal, but she could deal with that. The job seemed easy enough, albeit inconspicuous. She smiled, thinking of those pushy propagandists in old cartoons.

She didn't want to do it. She didn't want to do anything. Looking over the rest of the available positions, she had half the mind to turn around and forget about it.

The monster in her belly warned her to reconsider. _Pick something, damn you_!

She really hated this, but considering her options-or lack of them- why not? Just be the fucking flier-whatever. Walk someone's dog. Entertain people. Something was better than nothing and _any_thing was imperative at this point.

Her eyes traced the callback information. Pulling out a pen she hurredly scribbled the digits on her arm for a few positions. The next obstacle now would be of course, finding a phone.

Crinkling her nose, she imagined a real meal. Relief from cold nights .What it would be like to sleep on a real bed again. _Anything now would feel like clouds…_

"Hm?" She turned around.

Kids, happy townsfolk, a silly dog running down the slope behind her. Everyone delightfully unaware of care and her existence.

A nervous laugh escaped her. "Its nothing," she chirped. "Nothing, nothing, nothing…"

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><p>"This… may be a problem."<p>

Again. Again and again and again.

"What the hell?

His fingers ran through unkempt blond spiky hair.

"Where is it?"

It was Sunday, so the sandlot was predictably empty. But, it wasn't even quiet. Chatter could be heard from just past the way as the town started to wake up. It wasn't supposed to be this way. People were _outside_.

Where were the Heartless? He'd barely seen any in the past week and his targets kept disappearing. Today was a perfect example.

His frustration voiced itself in a growl. Failure was getting pretty old.

He turned, looked around his shoulder in desperation. He knew his time window was running out and he didn't need any more problems. He pouted, clenched his hands, but obviously, a solution wasn't just going to show up.

"Well Roxas," he growled. "Better report this."


End file.
